


Oops

by SingleStrand



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Clothing Kink, Coming In Pants, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingleStrand/pseuds/SingleStrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis knows he's not supposed to touch Harry's precious designer suit. But has that ever stopped him?</p>
<p>I wrote this text-fic to some of my fave girls right after we saw the first pics of Harry in that BFA suit. At the time, I assumed the suit was Saint Laurent, so just go with it okay? Okay.</p>
<p>Also, this is TEXTFIC. It's unbetaed and likely unpunctuated in parts. Soz.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oops

The thing is, Louis _knew_ it would be there at the flat when he got back from Oz. Harry had told him a thousand times. "My suit's been delivered. You know I have to go to LA. Don't fuck with it, Lou."

"Don't fuck with it, Lou," rings in his head as he sits on the bed, biting his nails and staring at the bag draped over a chair, Saint Laurent emblazoned on the front like all Harry's other shit lying around. And he tries to just leave it. Watches footie for a bit and has a few beers with Zayn. But his mind keeps wandering to the suit bag in the bedroom. When it's time for bed, he can't take it anymore. He just needs a peek, just to satisfy his curiosity.

But then when he sees the reddish striping peeking out of the bag, he can't help but touch it. And it's so silky, his hand glides right over the fabric, so different from the hoodies and sweats he's had on for the past two days. Louis tries to go to sleep but he can't stop thinking about Harry in that fucking suit. He knows it's probably even more ridiculous in its entirety because Harry can't just wear any suit. It has to be a fucking pink pinstripe job with double breasted buttons and straight leg pants that show off his massive feet. And the more he tosses and turns, the more he can't not at least try it on. It's Saint Laurent for gods sake and he doesn't even get to go to the event.

Louis slides out of bed in the dark, dropping his trackies and pants before pulling the bag from the chair. He takes the dress bottoms from the hanger and starts to pull them on, reveling in the feel of them sliding up his bare calves, thighs, and oh. His cock springs up, bumping against the zipper and honestly getting in the way as he does up the flies and adjusts himself.

He reaches for the jacket but stops to feel his own legs, rubbing his thighs with sweaty palms and consciously trying to avoid thinking about his own cock, hard inside the trousers Harry will wear while schmoozing with the likes of Kate Moss and Nick fucking Grimshaw. Even though the very thought of Grimmy should be a bonerkill, Louis gets a very naughty thought. What if, well, what if he just happened to give Harry a reason to be say ... distracted, while at the fancy fashion 'do, eh? Louis lies back on the bed and closes his eyes, one hand palming his cock and the other reaching up to his bare chest, giving his own nipple a pinch.

Lou gives a soft moan even though the house is empty. It's been a really long time. Well, not since he got off -- Harry had made sure that was attended to plenty of times in Australia. But touching himself. It's been awhile since he's wanted to, needed to. He starts to undo the trouser zip but a wicked grin spreads across his face as he considers.

"Nah," he whispers to himself and continues to stroke his own cock through the silk fabric. Back and forth, a bit more firmly each time. Lou grips the sheet beside him, feeling the beginnings of his release coming all to quickly, a bit because he knows this is something he'll get in trouble for and a bit because these silk trousers are fucking amazing. When he comes, he does so quietly, tensing up a bit and then only sighing, letting his eyes open slowly. The wet heat seeps through to his fingers almost immediately and he grins, throwing his head back and laughing alone at his own trick.

"Serves ya right, pretty boy," Louis mumbles to himself, trying to decide what would be best to clean up the most of the mess with, but somewhere between 2am and a cosy bed and googling 'how to get cum out of silk' on his phone, Louis falls asleep, sated and happy and content.

\--------------------------- 

"Louis? Lou? LOUIS TOMLINSON!"  
  
Lou jerks awake and tries to sit up, blinking in the early morning light. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Haz flew in early and he's still wearing these fucking trousers. Come-stained trousers that Harry has to wear tonight. But Lou can't get away, tangled in silk and sheets and that damn duvet.  
  
Harry opens the bedroom door and begins to climb onto the bed, presumably to give him a long, slow welcome home kiss. "Hiiiiii." But when Harry spots the pinstripes beneath the sheets, he stops. Hesitates. "Louis," he warns, caging Lou in on the bed with his long limbs.  
  
"Oops?"


End file.
